Sunday, February 19, 2012

when the weather finds your wounds

I might be the shuffling in the night, I might be that spark of tell-tale light out amongst the trees. The creaking floorboards, the banging pipes. That scent of smoke lingering in the doorway. That shape that vanishes under the burden of proof. I live in that fever of lithe flesh, the evidence kept caged in your thieving heart. I live in that glib explanation that leaps and skulks behind your eyes, the truth that only the two of us could know. I might be shopping in your city. I might be sleeping beneath your stairs, swaddled in dust and webs.

I missed the stars when they worked their shift, I missed the dawn when it broke the night. I know I slept, though all I heard was the television telling its stories. I know I dreamt, though all I recall is the end. I may be mistaken, but I have been wrong before. I may have lost my way, but it could be that its the new one that I want. Now the day is half gone, and I have half a mind to waste the rest away. There is a thought I cannot shake, a notion that won't leave me alone. Only you could know quite what I meant, even when my meaning is mistook. Only you endure all these years in this wilderness away from the work-a-day world.

There is a touch that lingers, giving your skin its reasons. There is a kiss still lit on your lips, burning through all these moods and years. There is a stumble in your journeys, there is a smudge upon the relevant mark on the map. I am wicked, I am base. I am a fool caught in the spill of the scenery, ruined in the sweep of stars. All the worried words and all the doctor's portents and witches spells can not remove the name written in your heart. All your crimes and your sanctimony, all my books and rules, cannot change this scar. The earth will buck and the skies will scream, the roof will come rolling down. I will be beside you in these slips and hesitations. I am with you until the boat finds the bottom of the wide and wandering ocean. I am with you until the wheel stops spinning, rendered in tooth and midnight. Where ever you fall or fly, I am the scar you reach for when the weather finds your wounds.